


Starvation

by Anonymous



Series: DC Fics [1]
Category: DCU, Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Consent Issues, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Restraints, Trust, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 10:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: She's starved for touch and repulsed by it all at once.





	Starvation

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of inspired by the Titans show, but isn't tied to any continuity. It's closer to comics than anything, I guess.

Some days are worse than others. Today, when Dick finds her on the ground in the darkest corner of her bedroom, hugging her knees and hyperventilating, is worse than most.

“Kory?”

He kneels in front of her, getting low so that he can meet her eye. “Are you hurt?”

It takes her a second to comprehend the question. She shakes her head.

“Panic attack?” he asks. She nods. “Do you want me to stay?”

She stares – says something? She doesn’t know. All that she does is that Dick smiles and moves to sit a little closer.

She jerks back. “No, don’t –”

He leans back onto his heels, holding his hands up where she can see them. “Hey, it’s okay. I won’t come any closer. It’s just me, okay?”

She nods yet again. When he moves to back up more, even further then where he’d been to begin with, her hand shoots out to lock around his wrist, keeping him there.

The thought of being touched makes bile rise in her throat. She wants someone to press their entire body against hers, to feel someone’s weight and know she’s not alone.

She wants space.

She wants touch.

She’s starved for physical contact and repulsed by it all at once, and she doesn’t know _what to fucking do._ She fixes her watering eyes onto Dick, desperate for something impossible to articulate. He’s as calm as she is panicked, and watching him makes the fist clenching around her heart ease, just a little.

“Can I touch you?” he asks. It takes her a second, but she manages to nod. _He won’t hurt you._

She flinches reflexively anyway when he reaches out, but when his hands make contact with her shoulders, of course it’s gentle. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Dick murmurs, and he pulls her into a very gentle hug. The sensation – arms around her, holding her close – should make her skin crawl, but this is _Dick._ Her Dick. Her own arms latch around his waist, much harder than he’s holding her.

His arms tighten around her, but not enough to feel like a restraint. Firm. Grounding. She breathes him in, shaking against him. He doesn’t smell like much – no lingering scents from soap, no cologne, fragrance free laundry detergent, just traces of mint from his toothpaste. It’s soothing. It also gives her an idea. She gives herself another few moments to breathe and hold him tight before pulling away a little.

“Will you…” She trails off. She’s never had much difficulty asking someone for something. But this feels different, somehow, and the words catch in her throat.

Dick prompts, “Will I what?”

She pulls even further away, completely out of his arms, and holds up her hands. She can’t bring herself to say the words, but Dick is one of the smartest people she knows, and it doesn’t take long for his eyes to widen with comprehension. He recoils.

“ _No._ ”

“Please, Dick,” she says, and words are coming out more easily now. She’s almost _begging,_ for something that makes her heart race with something closer to terror than anticipation. It feels so ridiculous, she almost thinks she should laugh, but she hasn’t found anything less funny in a long time. “I need to know…”

His eyes narrow, and her breath catches, even though she thinks – _knows –_  that flicker of anger isn’t directed at her. “Need to know what?”

“That it’ll stop,” she says in a rush. “That if I say no…”

It’s Dick’s turn for his breath to catch. A shadow passes over his face, some emotion she can’t recognize – something close to sadness edged with surprise – _hurt?_ It’s gone before she can decide.

“Kory,” he says, and his voice has dropped even lower, barely over a whisper. “Do you – do you really think I wouldn’t?”

“ _No._ That’s why I need you to help me. Dick –” She cuts herself off, and she’s still shaking, but Dick nods, slowly at first, then more resolutely.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

* * *

Even though Koriand’r is stronger than him, too strong for him to hurt her with a careless motion, Dick is gentle with her, all slow, sweeping movements, firm but careful.

He doesn’t use handcuffs or zip ties, much less the inhibitor collar she knows he keeps somewhere in case of emergency. Instead, he winds a scarf around her wrists – soft. Safe. A restraint, yes. But there isn’t an instant when she couldn’t pull free.

Dick asks, “Do you need me to stop?”

Kory shakes her head. Her heartbeat settles into a slower, evener rhythm. She can breathe. It’s Dick in front of her, watching her with a concerned frown. If this isn’t safe, nothing is. “Kiss me.”

He does so. Her eyes close as his mouth presses against hers, hands moving to hold her close. She tries to reach up to his face, but her own hands are still tied. She settles back down and returns the kiss.

For a moment, it’s fine. But then his teeth skim over her bottom lip and she’s stiffening at the feel of fingers digging into her hip – _savagely possessive and hard enough to hurt and not, not, not Dick’s –_ and gasping out, “Stop.”

Dick does immediately, hands falling to his sides – _from her neck and upper arm, not her hip._ Before she knows it, he’s off the bed and standing, several feet between them. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, or maybe it’s just that her entire body is shaking.

“Can I come closer?” he asks, and nods at her hands. “Just to undo that?”

She thinks about it, then nods back at him. His answering smile is as bright as the sun. He slides back over, undoing the knot and tossing the scarf aside, massaging her wrists with his thumbs as if there had been rope digging into her skin, rather than cashmere just pressing against it. She collapses against him, and he strokes her hair, murmuring nonsense into her ear.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

* * *

Usually, they just be together, no scarves or restraints of any kind. Sometimes, she needs to know she’ll be safe and cared for, even when her hands are bound. Sometimes, he needs help remaining unafraid of being pinned down by someone stronger than him.

Sometimes they try it and don’t panic or need to stop.

There are still days where she scrambles away from him, stomach rolling at the idea of anyone touching her. There are days, after Mirage, where he does the same.

But they’re tactile people, the both of them, far too much so for _no touch_ to be an option. So they stay with each other and hold each other through panic attacks, try to make touch feel good, feel safe. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t, but at least, they know they’re not alone.

Kory brushes her lips against a sleeping Dick’s temple and closes her eyes. They’re getting better, together. And that’ll be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I...I don't know. I feel like Kory and Dick have a whole lot of combined traumas that should be addressed revolving around consent, and then this happened. Also, I've never written anything in present tense before, so this was weird. I'm publishing this anonymously because reasons, but would still appreciate comments!


End file.
